#scenarios

[nhmkhnh]

professor!caitlyn x fem!student!user

preface: she was the professor with a mind like a fortress and a heart locked in iron — until you walked in, and she started leaving the door open.

author's note: got a bot abt this topic too, here! not having much to yap today. enjoy, my girls!

wrn: lowercase, rumoring abt reader slept with cait in a scenario.

masterlist / janitor ai / c.ai / carrd

office hours after dark you show up late to professor kiramman’s office hours—well after everyone else has gone home. you’re flustered, apologizing for the time, your notebook a mess, makeup a little smudged from a long day. caitlyn pretends to be composed. she offers you tea. she sits across from you with her legs crossed, listening intently as you ask about political theory. but inside?

“this close. she’s this close to me. does she know what she’s doing? no, of course she doesn’t. and those lips—gods, i could just—no. keep it together, caitlyn.” you don’t notice how her hand twitches every time yours brushes hers on the desk. or how her tea’s gone cold, untouched.

that dress should be illegal you show up to her lecture wearing a new sundress—tiny florals, soft pastels, and far too short. you’re twirling a pen between your fingers, oblivious to the chaos you’ve caused. caitlyn stumbles over a sentence mid-lecture. she never stumbles.

“focus. focus on the goddamn lecture, caitlyn. rousseau didn’t write about civil liberties so you could drool over a student—bloody hell, that hemline…” you ask an innocent question. she calls it “insightful.” she praises you in front of the whole class. later, she scolds herself for it. “you’re slipping. she’s not even trying and you’re slipping.”

caught in the rain after a sudden rainstorm, you show up to her office drenched—shirt clinging to your skin, hair stuck to your cheeks. you’re laughing about it. she offers you her coat. you wrap it around you, smelling her perfume. she watches you like you’re the only person on earth.

“she’s in my coat. wearing my scent. how is this not a crime?” she tells you to stay until the rain stops. you talk about nothing for hours. her hand lingers just a little too long when she hands you tea.

“you did so well” you ace her exam. she leaves a handwritten note on your paper: “proud of you. truly exceptional work.” you beam when you read it. she watches you read it from across the room.

“if only she knew what i’d do just to see that smile again.”

later, she calls you into her office just to “check in.” you thank her. she tells you how brilliant you are. you giggle, nervous. she wants to bite her tongue—because what she wants to say is:

“i want to ruin every boy you’ve ever spoken to and keep you in my pocket like a secret.”

you fall asleep in her class you’d pulled an all-nighter. you doze off near the back of the lecture hall, cheek resting on your palm, lashes fluttering. caitlyn sees you. keeps teaching like nothing’s wrong, but her voice softens. she watches over you like a hawk. when class ends, she drapes her coat over your shoulders and wakes you gently.

“she’s exhausted. look at her. has anyone taken care of her today?”

you thank her, embarrassed. she only smiles, brushing imaginary lint off your shoulder.

“rest, darling. let me worry for once.”

a rumor goes around someone in your class starts a rumor that you’re sleeping with her. it’s not true. yet. you tell her about it, laughing nervously. she stiffens.

“who?” she asks. “who said that?” her voice is cold. sharp. not the caitlyn you know.

she hides it, but she wants blood. not because of the scandal. but because they dared to drag your name through the mud.

“i don’t care what they say about me. but her? she’s pure. untouchable. how dare they.”

library study date you ask her for extra help. she agrees to meet you at the library after hours. she shows up in casual clothes—still neat, still sharp. you’re curled up beside her, knees brushing, pointing at your laptop screen. she smells like old books and bergamot. you’re close enough to touch.

“her lip gloss is cherry today. i wonder if she tastes like it.”

you fall against her shoulder while yawning. she freezes. but she doesn’t move.

“let her stay. just for a moment.”

the gala

there’s a school event. a formal one. you show up in a backless dress that makes heads turn. hers most of all. caitlyn looks dashing in a tuxedo. you run to her, asking to take a picture together. you loop your arm through hers. she almost forgets to breathe.

“if i touch her lower back right now, would she notice?”

you upload the photo later, captioned: “my favorite professor 💙” she stares at it for an hour.

you call her “caitlyn” by accident

it slips out. you’re laughing, mid-conversation, and you say it. “caitlyn.” not professor kiramman. not ma’am. her pupils dilate. her hands clench.

“gods, don’t say my name like that. not unless you want something to happen.”

she covers it with a light laugh. but later, in her apartment, alone—

“say it again. just one more time. please.”

you tell her you feel safe with her

you’ve had a rough day. you show up to her office teary-eyed. she clears her schedule. sits with you. listens. you rest your head on her lap. you whisper, “i always feel safe with you.” and caitlyn—controlled, composed caitlyn—goes silent. her hand trembles as it strokes your hair.

“she trusts me. she doesn’t know what that does to me.”

she kisses your forehead before you leave. just once. just enough. you smile. you don’t see the way she watches you walk away.

[thewritetofreespeech]

words: 560 rating: E pairing: Gale x Tav [pining stages of Act 1] tags: gale being a pinning pine tree, m!solo, masturbation, panty sniffing/panty thief

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

He knew this was wrong.

Stealing, in any capacity, was wrong; with a little grey area allotted for the reason of the stealing. But stealing from someone you cared about, loved, adored, worshiped even, and then do this with their belongings was objectively wrong.

Gale wasn’t sure when he had become the full time ‘domestic’ of the group. Cooking he had volunteered for as it was something he enjoyed, and the alchemy of blend spices was almost as second nature to him as blending the Weave. Then it turned into him picking up camp while the others were away. Organizing their loot while he looked for artifacts that might be useful to him. To now even doing their laundry.

Gale didn’t particularly mind doing the chore. He wouldn’t trust Karlach or Lae'zel  with the finer fabrics of his wizarding robes anyway, and the blood & muck didn’t necessarily bother him. The smell some days from their more….robust companions was less of a delight though.

Except for Tav’s. He could sniff their scent of eternity. Bathe in their musk. Or, at least steal it for a while.

The hand on Gale’s cock sped up as he took another sniff of his companion’s underthings fisted tightly in his other hand. He knew it was wrong. First the stealing, then using them for such a debauched activity, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t lying when he said he was mesmerized by their scent. And when he saw the panties just laying their in the clothing hamper something compelled them to put them in his pocket.

How he specifically got here though was a mystery. One minute he was by the river washing clothes, the next he was sniffing stolen underwear and wanking like a pre-teen in his tent alone. He felt ashamed, foolish, but he didn’t stop. His fingers gripped harder at the base before pulling up to extract more pre-cum. Gale moaned a little, but the sound was muffled by Tav’s panties in his hand acting not only as his fuel to the fire but also a convenient gag.

His legs spread wider as his hand sped up further. Gale could feel himself about to cum. Panting into Tav’s panties as the scent washed over him like a thick cloud. Not a fog, because he didn’t feel heavy. A cloud, because he felt high. High above the ground and this mortal coil and debase act, but somewhere in a higher plane where it was just him & Tav. But maybe that was just him hyperventilating.

His cord on his orgasm finally snapped and Gale’s cum sprayed over his hands and freshly laundered bedding. He would have to do another wash tomorrow. As he cleaned it up as best he could, Gale came up with a plan to ‘find’ Tav’s underthings in his bedding. ‘A simple mistake’ he would assure them, ‘totally an accident’.

Guilt coiled in Gale’s stomach as he realized he was not only a thief now but a liar. But he could never let Tav know who he really was at the moment.

As he laid down for the night, the panties tucked under his pillow for safe keeping, Gale tried to get some rest. There would be lots of chores to do in the morning. He’d need his rest if he was going to get through them all.

[wolfofcelestia]

Boxing Day

[loveanddeepspaceimagines]

Talking to your baby bump ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Zayne carefully arranged pillows to support your sleeping form before settling beside you on the bed, your baby bump now beneath the covers. His hand wandered to stroke gentle circles over the swell, awestruck as always by the miracle inside.

"Hey little one," he murmured softly so as not to wake you. "It's just you and me for a chat." A tiny fluttering kick met his palm, drawing a quiet chuckle.

"I want you to know how excited your dad is to meet you," he continued, voice full of wonder. "I'll teach you everything how to walk, talk...".

His eyes drifted to your peaceful expression, love swelling in his chest. "You're going to have the best mommy, you know. She's the kindest, bravest person I know." Brushing hair from your cheek, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Turning attentions back to your unborn child, Zayne smiled. "I promise I'll support both of you no matter what. We're gonna have so much fun together, the three of us."

Caressing the bump once more, he whispered, "I love you so much already, little peanut. Can't wait to hold you in my arms."

As if in reply, a stronger fluttering pressed against his palm. Smile stretching ear to ear, he rested his head by your side, content to keep watch over his perfect little growing family.

You were curled up asleep on the couch, your baby bump pressing against the cushions as you rested. Rafayel came over quietly and knelt beside you, gently placing a hand on your stomach.

"Hey little one," he whispered softly so as not to wake you. "It's daddy."

He still couldn't believe there was life growing inside the woman he loved most. Your child wasn't even born yet and already he loved them fiercely.

"I just wanted to tell you how excited I am to meet you," he continued, rubbing gentle circles with his palm. "Your mommy and I have been waiting so long for this."

There was a flutter of movement under his hand and Rafayel's breath caught, overcome at even the smallest response. "I know you can't understand me yet, but I promise I'm going to be the best daddy."

Throughout your pregnancy so far, he had doted on your every need and craving. But in quiet moments like this, he also spoke his heart to your unborn baby through your belly.

"We're going to have so much fun learning and playing together. I'll teach you how to draw if you want!" He chuckled softly. "But most of all, I want you to know how much you are loved already, little one."

He placed a tender kiss to your abdomen resting his cheek there.

The evening sun slanted gently through the bedroom window as you slept, your soft breathing the only sound amid peaceful quiet. Xavier lay beside you, propped on an elbow while watching your belly rise and fall beneath his palm.

9 weeks along now, just the faintest swell showed your child's growth nestled safely within.

Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss to your belly through fabric before whispering, "Hey little one. It's Daddy. I know you can't hear me yet but I just wanted to say hi."

He scooped gentle circles with his hand, half expecting to feel answering flutters even this early. His heart swelled impossibly at the idea of hidden tiny fingers and toes taking shape, getting ready to greet him.

"I can't wait to meet you. Your mom and I will do everything to take care of you, keep you safe and loved."

"You'll know so much love, little peanut. We're going to be a perfect happy family together - just wait and see." Xavier sniffed, emotion rising in his voice. His eyes strayed reverently to your peaceful face.

"You're so lucky to have her as your mom. She's going to be the best." He murmured placing soft kiss to your stomach.

You had drifted off to sleep early in the evening, Sylus sat beside you on the couch, watching your peaceful slumber with a quiet smile.

His large hand drifted to rest gently against the swell of your abdomen, feeling the occasional flutter of tiny movements stirring within. His child, strong and spirited even now, responding to his touch.

"Hey there little one," Sylus murmured low, careful not to wake its mother. "It's just us guys for now. You keeping momma company in there?"

A curious prodding against his palm seemed to answer. His smile widened as he continued his one-sided conversation.

"You're going to turn our whole world upside down soon. But me and your mom, we can't wait to meet you. We'll teach you everything - how to walk, talk. Maybe how to wrestle if you're up for it."

Soft chuckling accompanied the mental image before growing serious once more. "Most of all, we'll make sure you know how much you're loved. No matter what."

His fngertips traced soothing patterns over stretched skin, voice dropping lower. "We'll be here for you always, little crow. Me and your mom against the world."

Glancing once more at your sleeping form, he placed a tender kiss to your belly. "Be good to your mom, you hear? See you real soon, little one."

©loveanddeepspaceimagines 2024

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Hope you enjoyed reading this peace! Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated. I'm hoping i can find mutuals in lads fandom! Thank you for reading!

[seasidefallenangel]

little by little, finger to finger

"helping" your boyfriend work out ft sae itoshi

notes: sae x gn reader, fluff, reader is silly, suggestive towards the end and i nearly killed myself over it

“are you-” kiss “-sure that this-” kiss “-is actually helpful?”

sae pauses his push-ups to glare down at you for asking such a stupid question. the plush carpet beneath you cushions any discomfort you might normally feel when laying on the literal floor as sae is doing his morning workout. 

sunday is generally the one day you two have to spend with one another and while you usually loathe getting up so early, the view of sae’s muscles flexing is pretty good compensation. of course, when he saw you staring and drooling he opted to just call you a creep before saying that if you’re gonna ogle him then at least make yourself useful.

you had assumed by ‘help’ he meant maybe getting him some water or moving his weights when he was done. not… being motivation? you’re not exactly sure what to classify it as. he says that it helps him reach his goal faster, and you’re not one to complain about free kisses from your boyfriend. you are one to complain about the fact his sweat is starting to drip onto your face, though.

“ugh, gross!” you whine, making him roll his eyes and sigh. staying up for a few moments, he motions his head for you to instead crawl onto his back for some extra weight which you do with haste.

“aren’t i too -”

“don’t be a dumbass,” he interjects before continuing his routine like you weren’t there at all. despite appearances, his annoyance is obviously falsified since he’s the one who insisted you stay for the workout in the first place.

being a pain in his ass is the most integral part of your relationship though, so you place a few feather light kisses on the back of his neck while he’s continuing his push-ups. he pauses for a moment before promptly throwing you off his back - though his hands quickly move and cradle your fall before you can fully collide with the ground.

his eyes narrow as you look up at him with a smug grin and he sounds exasperated when he asks, “is your only purpose in life to irritate the shit out of me?”

your reply of, “pretty much” only makes it worse.

he flicks you on the forehead before moving to lay on his back next to you. his eyes flutter shut for a brief moment and he tells you, “can you at least help me stretch? or is that too much for your brain to process too?”

eager for any excuse to touch him, you easily comply and move to sit in front of him with bright eyes.

(in the back of his head, he can’t help but think about how adorable you look awaiting orders.)

“put this hand here,” he instructs while guiding your left hand to the back of his mid-thigh and your right hand to his heel. slowly, you push backward as he lets out a hiss of relief from the tension in his muscles fading. 

he urges you to move a little closer and stretch his calf further, and you grow a bit worried at the idea you might accidentally hurt him. something about “not doing it right” falls from his mouth and before you can ask him exactly what he means, he tugs your arm so you collapse on top of him.

you’re about to yell at him and ask what the point having you help even was if he’s just gonna purposefully mess you up, but your thoughts are scrambled by the feeling of a familiar hardness pressing against your stomach.

when you glance up at sae, he’s wearing that self-assured smirk he usually has when he’s playing with you. the only acknowledgement he gives you is a low, “you’re awful at taking a hint,” before pulling you towards him once more.

[throwawayhero]

Thinking about !Katsuki who has the FATTEST crush on you and is always trying to impress you and/or failing miserably in the process (more or less?).

He'll do things like answering a hard question in math with the smuggest look on his face so that everyone, especially you, knows that he isn't fucking around when it comes to knowing his shit.

!Katsuki who stretches during hero training in a way that he knows makes him look good just because there's a slight chance that you're watching him. And you most certainly are, but he doesn't need that ego boost.

!Katsuki who tells you to 'go to hell' because you asked him if he wanted to go out for lunch with the rest of the group, but in reality he hated that he was the last person to be asked and declined out of pure pettiness.

!Katsuki who found out you enjoyed a certain series and decided to buy all the paperbacks and read them, and then proceeded to "accidentally" leave one of them on his desk when you come over to his dorm so he could see you get excited about liking the same thing.

!Katsuki who woke up earlier than usual on valentines day and got to class before anyone so he could put a bouquet on your desk and an anonymous card that read 'Today is another yesterday, but your smile is a glint of tomorrow.' He praised himself highly on that one.

[marvelstan0905]

"She's so tiny!"

Kenji Sato X Wife!Reader [afab] (short oneshot)

DadAU!

TW: newborn/fluff/Emi referneces/new dad au/cheesy dad moments

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

This is really just came to my head. It's kinda short. I'm sorry! 😙

Here she was Kenji's little baby. An actual human this time. The baby was beautiful. The apple in Kenji's eyes. She was perfect, his little Emiko. His thoughts drifted off to Emi, his first baby. He wonders what she'd do when she saw an a human baby or if she'd grown alot since the last he'd seen her.

As he stood by the balcony of his home admiring his newborn as he held the sleeping infant. Kenji couldn't help but reflect the long journey he's had. No doubt it was unique and crazy but here he was. A father once again. This time around more permanent but Emi would always be in his heart. Kenji glanced at his sleeping wife as he walked back into the house. God, he was so grateful to her. She brought him, his greatest blessing and his greatest gift. His tiny, Emiko.

"You know..I didn't think I'd be able to handle you. I thought that human babies would be alot harder than kaiju babies. "Kenji murmured as he spoke to his little princess. His pure copy. Those mauve, blue eyes. Those dark raven locks and a nose just like his. His little twin. "Looking at you now..after 9 long months..I think I worried too much. You're such a sweetheart and you're so perfect and tiny. I promise-no, I ultra promise I'll be strong enough for you"

The baby cooed as she woke up. A cute little yawn escaped Emiko's lips as she fidgets in her swaddle.

"Good evening, princess Emiko. Ready to eat, tiny girl? I wonder if you'll like fish" Kenji joked before pecking his child's face and walking into the kitchen. Kenji placed a breastmilk filled bottle into the microwave and waited for it to cool after taking it out. Kenji took the time to gently remove the swaddle from his daughter chasing her to do the cutest little stretch "Adorable" Kenji whispered whiles gently tickling his daughter's tummy.

"You know..Emi used to vomit if I did that. She puked all the time" Kenji chuckled to himself and his little daughter as fond memories of Emi clustered through his mind. "I wish you could meet her"

The baby cooed and since she was a calm and sweet baby, she didn't fuss too much as Kenji swiftly changed her diaper whiles singing softly. "B-I-N-G-O..B-I-N-G-O..and Bingo was his name-o"

Kenji grabbed the bottle and checked the temperature before he started feeding his daughter whispering sweet promises.

"I promise that you'll never go near a boy or girl romantically when I'm around"

"I promise I'll never ever neglect you and I'll take excellent care of you and mom"

"I promise I'll be the best dad and I'll teach you all the baseball skills so you'll be better than me"

"I promise to love you forever and ever"

[olive-main]

oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!

Between Us Alone

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.

Wc: 1.2k

A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh

Masterlist

——

The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night” early and join you at your shared apartment.

A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.

It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.

Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.

“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”

Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.

Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”

Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”

“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”

Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”

You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.

“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.

You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.

But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…

Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.

“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.

—

The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.

But tonight, it felt suffocating.

You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.

This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.

As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.

You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.

You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.

What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?

You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.

“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”

His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”

Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.

You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.

“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”

He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”

“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”

“Stop.”

The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.

“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”

Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.

“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”

“But they—”

“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”

You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”

A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”

“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”

He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”

——

Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3

Requests are still open ;)

[ihangelic]

BND WHEN YOU KISS THEM MID-ARGUMENT

pair ; boynextdoor (legal line) x gn!reader genre ; fluff, barely-there angst warnings ; established relationship, silly arguments, couple shenanigans, petnames wc ; 2k (abt 400 words each)

✉️ 𓂃 ₊˚⊹ note ; mb by @/aeriinwonderland

! . . . COPYRIGHT OF IHANGELIC

𝒥aehyun. . .

it’s not like you and your soft hearted boyfriend were prone to arguments, but today was a mix of stressors for the both of you that made for a perfect storm.

a grumpy look from jae, a snippy comment by you, and the next thing either of you knew, you’d been arguing for the last few minutes. (like ten minutes tops, but that’s long for you two.)

when you see the telling sign of tears in your boyfriend’s eyes, you know it’s gone too far; even if you’re only lightly bickering about who was the one to leave the tub of ice cream out on the counter to melt. (🍡 — continued under cut)

your boyfriend is as tough as a stuffed puppy: all soft on the inside, made for love and snuggles. he’s not used to arguing with you and he absolutely hates it.

your heart fills with guilt, and that small fire burning in your chest, fueling the argument— it’s snuffed out without a seconds notice.

jaehyun doesn’t even notice you walking closer (probably thanks to his unshed tears blurring his vision) until you’re wrapping your arms around his middle.

acting on pure instincts and the overwhelming need to make your baby feel better, you press a soft kiss on his lips, lingering for a long moment before pulling away with a small sound that has jaehyun’s stomach fluttering.

“wh— what…?”

he doesn’t even let himself come up with a complete thought or conclusion, his eyes instead dropping to your mouth before pulling you into another kiss.

and that second kiss turns into butterfly pecks all over his cheeks, which gets your myungie all giggly, making you laugh a little yourself— especially with how he returns the attack, peppering his lips all over your face and making you ticklish.

“i’m sorry, baby. i was being immature and i wasn’t even thinking about how i could be hurting you until i saw you tearing up.”

“s’okay,” he hardly manages to say between his ministrations. “i was being dumb too. n’ you made me all better now.”

jaehyun finally pulls away from your face enough for you to see the adorably happy smile on his lips, causing you to react in a similar fashion as you giggle and fondly shake your head.

“you’re such a sucker for kisses, aren’t you?”

(after that, receiving kisses by your boyfriend in the middle of an argument or whenever one starts brewing is a regular occurrence, and it works like a charm every time. <3)

𝒮ungho. . .

(surprised cat number one.)

you were having what could hardly even be called an argument with sungho in the middle of the kitchen after you just cleaned it.

your chores are split 50/50; so when sungho walked into the room and saw missed, messy areas untouched, he didn’t find it very fair.

his tone is honestly rather gentle, and he never will raise his voice at you— but as he picks up a ‘clean’ spoon to show you the spots still left on it, notices you didn’t rinse the sink out after washing the dishes, and sees that you didn’t spray down the counter— it just snow balls from there.

you can tell he’s getting frustrated when his face tenses and his soft lecture turns into mumbled rambles, more to himself than you.

you want to tell him that you’re sorry, that you were just kind of going on autopilot and not paying close enough attention to how well you were actually cleaning— but you’re unable to get a word in or for him to actually hear you over his own thoughts as he continues fussing over things in the kitchen.

then you’re struck with an idea, a lightbulb over your head; it definitely might be cheesy, but you have a feeling it will work.

before you can sike yourself out of doing it, you walk up to sungho and cup his face into your hands.

his eyes widen in surprise before you’ve even completed the main mission, and when you lean forward to kiss his lips, a soft gasp escapes them.

his hands move to hold your waist, even though he hasn’t been able to process what’s happening yet— all he knows is that you’re kissing him (and he really likes when you do that).

the kiss is sweet and lingering, sungho’s hands eventually moving to hug you against his chest as he comes back to his senses.

even when you finally pull away, his hold on you never falters.

“did you just use a drama tactic on me to make me shut up?” he asks, expression somewhat shocked as his brows are raised, yet he has an amused smile and fond eyes while he looks at you.

“yeah.” you admit smugly. “did it work?”

(spoiler alert: it definitely did.)

𝑅iwoo. . .

if you and your boyfriend are arguing, it’s most likely the two of you worrying about the other’s wellbeing and health.

for instance, if there’s a cold wind outside and you’re about to go out for a walk together, riwoo always picks up your coat from the hook to put it on you— but the problem is, you don’t always want to wear it.

“riwoo, it’s not even that cold. we’re gonna be walking around and then i’ll get too hot.”

“baby, you need to wear it!” 🥺

he speaks in pout, trying to convince you with his cute face and pleading eyes. “you know if you get too warm in it i’ll just carry it for you.”

your ‘arguing’ (which most onlooker would think is really cute and comparable to a married couple) would continue from there, until riwoo finally decides to try and wrangle you into his arms and put the coat on you.

you’re both giggling and struggling against each other— and if you’re being completely honest— you’re not really putting up much of a fight, on account that you secretly enjoy riwoo fussing over you.

finally he manages to hang the coat over your squirmy shoulders and wraps his arms around yours, putting you ‘in prison’ as he calls it, to keep you from just shrugging it off.

you give a bratty huff, and in an act of defiance and ‘revenge’, smack a kiss on riwoo’s unsuspecting lips.

it’s done before anything hardly had the chance to start, you quickly pulling away, pretending that you’re not super shy and kinda embarrassed at your own actions.

riwoo is also shocked, his cheeks pink and eyes wide as he stares at you.

but it only takes a few seconds for him to clue back in, lips curving into an adoring smile, because he utterly adores you.

“…why did you pull away so soon, baby?” he asks, and a moment later he’s pulling you even closer to press his lips to yours, the kiss lasting for a lot longer— and deeper.

you get so lost in his kiss that you don’t even think to protest how he pulls the coat up your arms and zips it up— until he pulls away with a sneaky laugh, pointing childishly at you as he teases.

(and despite you ‘losing’ the argument, you can’t find in yourself to care. he’s just too adorable.)

“i got you! now come on!” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile too, letting him take your hand and lead you out the door to begin your walk together.

𝒯aesan. . .

(surprised cat number two.)

taesan is a good boyfriend and doesn’t get mad super often, but there is little pet peeves he has; if you manage to do one of those things on the list, it’s hard for him to not get a little upset about it.

the thing is, you’d almost rather have him nagging at you for whatever you’ve done to offend him, but most times he doesn’t; rather, he’ll opt to give you the silent treatment or avoid you.

(and by ‘avoid’, i mean he’s gonna pout and mope around rooms he knows you’re residing in, never directly talking or interacting with you but clearly hoping you’ll look his way and pay attention— because he’s kinda just a huge baby; as much as he refuses to admit it, he likes being fussed over by you.)

“love, just tell me what’s wrong.” you ask, tone lightly whined. but (shocker!), he ignores you.

it keeps going like this, you begging for taesan to just tell you what’s wrong and him not answering, until finally he turns around to look you right in the eyes— and then the words flow like a dam bursting.

his tone isn’t mean, he’s just clearly bothered— and you try; you try really hard to take him seriously and listen to his complaint…

but he’s just so cute when he’s angry. 🤭 (like bfr. we’ve all seen that clip of taesan being ‘mad’ at leehan. he looked absolutely adorable and not scary at all, like a kitten that just got wet and is pouting about it.)

and as his rambling just keeps going, you hold on until you can’t resist anymore, grabbing him by the arms and planting a kiss on his lips.

and although he still has many things to say 😤☝🏼, he still returns this kiss, lips moving sweetly against yours when he realizes what’s happening.

when you pull away, you expect him to be smiling— but instead, he looks even more angry then before.

that’s when you start actually getting a little scared.

“wow. you’re really just gonna interrupt me when i’m talking like that?”

“i— i’m sorry, taesan. i was trying—“

before you can finish, he’s pulling you into his arms and kissing you with fever, confusing you even further.

but when you feel his lips smile against yours as he kisses you, you realize that he wasn’t ever actually mad all along. 🥹

𝐿eehan. . .

hannie is just sooo not the argumentative type, so that means it’s you who’s the problem! 🫵🏼 (jk, but also kinda fr.)

if there’s an argument it’s usually going to have to be started by you, simply because leehan is not very confrontational at all, and he’s rather easy to please and be at peace with.

he doesn’t really have any issues with you because he’ll bring it up before it becomes one. on top of that, it’s very rare for him to show frustration (and practically non-existent in the realm of possibilities when it comes to you) because it doesn’t really go along with his nature.

but with that said— he’s human, and he has bad days too.

you got upset with him over something and it turned into an argument; debatably a one sided one— or at least it seems like that when you’re the only one getting mad and hannie’s just sitting there quietly listening.

it’s not until you look over at him again and see his furrowed brows and soft eyes— which appear clearly upset by your strong, opposing opinion— that you finally realize you’re hurting his feelings.

and then your heart sinks, the argument completely worthless and stupid now as you stare at leehan’s shiny eyes, downtrodden with sadness. 🥺

and the way he’s just sitting there quietly makes you feel all the more awful.

so you hurry over to him and cup his cheeks to press a delicate kiss to his lips, desperately wanting to make him feel better and wipe that heartbroken look off his face immediately.

when you pull away from his lips, he gawks at you with a deer in headlights look, not saying anything at all.

it makes you feel a little awkward and unsure of if you did was the right thing, so you ask—

“um— did that…work?”

he pauses for a while longer before humming deeply. “i don’t know. maybe…try again?”

that makes your stomach flutter with hope, and you do as he says in an instant, giving a peck to his forehead.

“and..here?” he asks, boba eyes looking at you adorably while pointing to his left cheek.

then it’s his right cheek— then his nose— then his lips again, until finally you burst into giggles at the continuous loop.

“i’m sorry, baby. i was being a jerk. i’ll try to be more careful expressing myself next time.”

“it’s okay,” he smiles, all happy and calm and perfectly content as he gazes at you with the most loving eyes.

“but…” he hesitates, and you give him a look of encouragement to continue his sentence.

“does this mean you’re changing your mind about us having an underwater wedding?” 😃

“no, leehan! i’m not getting married to you in scuba gear!”

taglist ; @yuzuksi @aeminju (if you’d like to be added, removed, or change what type of content you’re tagged in, dm me! <3)

[lazysoulwriter]

my list! ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

that's my content! 💗

Paul Mescal ♡

Pedro Pascal ♡

Joel Miller ♡

Drew Starkey ♡

Rafe Cameron ♡

Lewis Hamilton ♡

Charles Leclerc ♡

Lando Norris ♡

Harry Styles ♡

JJ Maybank ♡

Chris Sturniolo ♡ | Matt Sturniolo ♡

[stxxrlights]

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐄...

part two smau featuring the jjk men's reactions when reader texts them instead of their friend, fawning over how handsome they look. this was requested by @loveyislost. part one

comments and reblogs are apperciated

[nhmkhnh]

jock!vi (hockey team captain) x heart throb!fem!user

preface: the things she would do.

author's note: i wrote each in small scenario so i decided put all of them in this post. if you want to, there is also my bot (on janitor ai) abt this topic, too, here!

wrn: lowercase, mentioning about smoking.

masterlist / janitor ai / c.ai / carrd

when greeting you.

vi leaned back against the wall outside the lecture hall, one boot kicked up behind her, a lazy grin tugging at her mouth the second she spotted you in the crowd. she pushed off and strode straight toward you, zero hesitation, zero shame.

"well, well," she drawled, eyes raking over you shamelessly. "ain't you the prettiest thing i've seen all day."

she bumped your shoulder lightly with hers — casual to anyone else, but she lingered, close enough for her scent (clean sweat, a little vanilla) to wrap around you.

"you miss me, sweetheart?" vi added, half-smirking, half-serious. "'cause i sure as hell missed you."

when she sees you talking too much with someone else.

vi stood a few feet away, hockey bag slung over one shoulder, pretending to mess with her phone. her jaw clenched tight as she watched you laugh — laugh — at something some random guy said, like he was the funniest bastard alive.

when you finally looked over and caught her eye, she didn’t smile. she just tilted her head, slow, deliberate, and said, voice low:

"you makin' new friends, huh?"

vi's eyes narrowed, mouth curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "careful, sweetheart. not everybody's got good intentions around here."

she said it lightly, almost teasing — but her knuckles had gone white around the strap of her bag.

when she leaves an anonymous gift for you.

it was raining when you opened your dorm door — and there, sitting in the middle of the welcome mat, was a little box.

inside: a small silver pendant shaped like a hockey puck, delicate and pretty, with your initials carved into the side. no note. no signature. just the faintest trace of a scent you knew too well — vi's cologne.

down the hall, half-hidden in the stairwell shadows, vi watched you pick it up, heart slamming against her ribs. she whispered under her breath, knowing you couldn’t hear:

"happy birthday, baby."

and then she turned and disappeared down the stairs before she could do something reckless — like run to you and beg you to wear it just for her.

when she offers her jacket. (but it's so much more)

you were shivering at the bus stop, arms wrapped around yourself in the late-night rain. before you could even complain, vi was there — tossing her heavy hockey jacket over your shoulders without a word.

"put it on," she muttered, not meeting your eyes.

the fabric was warm, still carrying her heat, her smell — leather and sweat and something achingly her. you opened your mouth to say thank you, but vi cut you off, voice rough:

"don’t. just… stay warm, yeah?"

under the streetlight, her ears were burning red.

when getting in a fight. (because someone touched you)

it was supposed to be a normal party. until some drunk idiot brushed too close to you — and vi saw red.

the guy didn't even get a second chance. one second he was laughing, and the next he was slammed against the wall, vi's forearm across his throat, snarling:

"you don’t touch her."

everyone was staring. you were frozen. vi didn’t care. didn’t even see them.

she only looked at you, chest heaving, voice shaking:

"you good, sweetheart?"

when pulling you into the hockey locker room (to hide)

you were running from a security guard (don't ask), heart hammering, laughing breathlessly — and vi yanked you into the dark locker room, hand clamped over your mouth.

you landed chest-to-chest against her.

"shh," she breathed against your ear, her body a wall of heat against yours.

the smell of sweat and soap clung to her skin. her fingers splayed at your waist, steadying you — but they stayed there, lingering, like she couldn't let go even if she tried.

her voice was barely a whisper:

"you’re killin’ me here, baby."

when singing (drunk) and accidentally revealing her feelings

the dorm party was dying down. someone shoved a karaoke mic into vi's hand — and to everyone's shock, she actually took it.

she sang low, gruff, kinda off-key — but when her eyes found yours across the room, the world went still.

she changed the lyrics mid-song:

"i’d give up everything… just to call you mine."

your breath caught. vi smirked crookedly, but there was a desperate edge to it — like she knew exactly what she’d just done.

when lighting a cigarette and offering you the first drag.

vi leaned against the railing outside the dorms, cigarette dangling from her lips, looking every inch the bad girl she pretended to be.

when you walked up, she plucked the smoke from her mouth and held it out to you, two fingers poised.

"first hit’s yours, sweetheart," she said, voice lazy and low.

when you hesitated, she smirked.

"or you scared you’ll get addicted?"

she wasn’t talking about the cigarette. not really.

when she takes you on a motorcycle ride.

"you ever been on a bike before?" vi asked, tossing you a spare helmet with a grin.

before you could answer, she was straddling the seat, revving the engine.

when you climbed on behind her, she grabbed your hands and placed them firmly around her waist.

"hold on tight, yeah?" she said, glancing back, a wicked glint in her eye. "i don’t want you flyin’ off unless you’re fallin’ for me."

the way she laughed after didn’t hide the fact she meant every word.

when teaching you to fight (way too hands-on)

you asked her, half-joking, if she could teach you how to throw a punch.

vi didn’t even blink.

she grabbed your hands, positioned them carefully, her big palms swallowing yours.

"loosen up, killer," she murmured, so close you could feel her breath on your cheek.

when you tried to pull back, embarrassed, vi’s grip tightened — gentle but firm.

"you wanna learn or you wanna run?" she said, smirking — but her voice was thick with something heavier. something like hope.

when getting jealous at a bar.

you were dancing. laughing. living. and vi? vi was three beers deep and seething.

when some random put his hands on your hips, she saw red.

she shoved through the crowd without thinking, grabbing your wrist and spinning you toward her.

"enough of that," she growled, dragging you off the floor like you were hers — and maybe, maybe you were.

you stumbled after her, heart racing, hearing her mutter under her breath:

"fuck if i’m gonna watch someone else touch you."

vi watching you sleep.

you fell asleep on her bed mid-movie, a blanket half-kicked off, lips parted slightly in the softest breath.

vi sat at the edge, frozen, just… staring.

she reached out — then pulled back. reached again — then brushed your hair back with the lightest touch, scared to wake you.

"you don’t even know," she whispered, voice cracking in the dark.

"you don’t even fuckin' know what you do to me."

she sat there the whole night, guarding you like a secret.

vi showing up after a nightmare.

you called her at 2 am. didn’t even explain. just said: "please."

vi was there in ten minutes, hoodie thrown over pajamas, eyes wide and wild.

she didn’t ask questions. just climbed into your bed, wrapped you up in her arms, and held you like you might break if she let go.

"you’re okay," she whispered, over and over. "i got you. always got you, baby."

and when you buried your face in her chest, clinging tight — she shut her eyes and pressed her mouth to your hair.

like a prayer. like a promise.

when she’s angry.

vi slammed her locker shut so hard the metal rattled down the hallway.

"un-fuckin'-believable," she muttered, voice low and dangerous.

you blinked at her, surprised, but she stalked up to you, fire in her eyes — not at you, but burning for you.

"you think all these assholes lookin' at you give a damn about you?" she snapped, voice a rough growl. "you think they'd stay when shit gets real?"

she grabbed your wrist, not rough, just desperate, grounding herself.

"i would," vi said, barely above a whisper. "i’m right fuckin' here."

her jaw tensed like she was holding back more — a lot more — but she let go and stepped back, running both hands through her hair like she wanted to scream.

"just—" she bit down on the words. "just stop lookin' at everyone else like that, yeah? before i do somethin' stupid."

when she’s desperate.

it was late. way too late. you were curled up on your bed, barely keeping your eyes open, when vi just snapped.

she sat down heavy on the edge of your mattress, voice rough and ragged:

"can you just… look at me? just for a second?"

when you did, confused and sleepy, vi dragged a hand through her hair, restless, broken.

"i can’t — i can't fuckin' keep actin' like you're just my friend," she said, almost a whisper. "every time you smile at me, i feel like i'm gonna fuckin' lose it. and you don't even know."

she laughed — a low, painful sound — and looked down at her hands like they might steady her heart. "i’d burn down the whole damn world if you asked me to. and you’re sittin' here thinkin' i’m just your hockey buddy."

bonus: when she pins you against the wall (finally snapping).

it happened too fast.

one second, you were laughing at something stupid, trying to slip past vi in the narrow hallway outside your dorm — and the next, your back was pressed flat against the cold wall, her body crowding yours, big hands braced on either side of your head.

vi wasn’t smiling. not even a little.

her breath hitched, chest heaving like she'd just run ten miles, fists curling against the wall like she needed something to punch just to survive standing this close to you.

"you drive me fuckin' crazy, you know that?"

her voice was low, shaking with something she couldn’t name, something too big to hide anymore. those sharp blue eyes bored into you, burning, furious, desperate.

"you walk around, all sweet and soft and fuckin' perfect, and you don't even know," she growled, dipping her head lower until her forehead nearly touched yours. "don't even fuckin' see what you do to me."

her hands trembled — barely — but she held herself back, still not touching you beyond the brutal cage of her arms.

"you think i don't notice the way you look at everybody else? laughin', flirtin' — like i ain't right fuckin' here, starin' at you like you hung the goddamn moon."

vi sucked in a breath, nostrils flaring, jaw clenching so hard it hurt.

"i can't do it anymore," she rasped. "i can't keep pretendin'. i can't keep lettin' you be this close without… without fuckin' claiming you, sweetheart."

her words echoed between you, ragged and raw.

and still — still — she didn’t touch you.

because she was giving you a choice. because no matter how much she ached for you, she would never take what you didn't want to give.

but her eyes? her eyes screamed: say something. take me. i'm yours if you want me.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Tender Loving Care

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: after a training accident, Aemond's wife takes care of him. In more ways than one.

tags: heterosexual sex, cowgirl, massage, hand job, cum eating, cranky Aemond is a good boy for his wife, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

Training accidents were as common as breathing if one wanted to master the sword.

If one wanted to hold a blade, then one must also be prepared to suffer its bite. Aemond was well aware of this. Even though it was just training, play fighting for the knights & instructors brought in from all over Westeros to teach the prince, he had been cut before. Nothing serious. Nothing like his eye. He wishes it had been. It would make this latest injury less wounding than the others.

A simple misstep, that was all. His own clumsiness was what put him in this bed. His leg wasn’t broken or maimed, but twisted in his fall, to the point that he could put no weight on it. Or at least that was what the maesters said.

2 weeks. That was the punishment for his own mistake. He was not to leave this bed save to relieve himself and the few moments a day he was granted to stand & test his legs progress. Each day was a new torment. Not for the pain, Aemond could handle that, but the failure of trying his leg and only have it betray him again & again. He wondered how his father did it all those years trapped in his bed. Aemond would have begged for death sooner.

“Husband,” the prince looked up from his window and thoughts of limping over to throw himself out of it, when his wife’s voice came into the room.

One of his few constant visitors during his confinement. Helaena came to visit him but was busy with her children. Aegon only came once, to taunt him about his trip more than anything before he left and a back handed ‘get better Aemond the Fierce!’. His mother came as well but flapped between concern and scolding for his ‘recklessness’. She was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned for him, though her concern was not needed. Aemond did not wish to feel more like an invalid than he already did. “What is it?”

“It is time to change the bandage on her leg.” To keep it straight. To keep him bound, he thought with a spat, although Aemond arched a brow at the comment.

“Where is the maester?” His wife was many things, but she was no practitioner of medicine nor magic.

She sighed. “Did you really expect them to come back willingly after last time?” Aemond pursed his lips.

Under the best of circumstances, Aemond was aware that he was not the most agreeable person in the realm. Could anyone really blame him? His existence had taught him over & over that it was better to lash out and cut first, lest you be the one who is sliced. Metaphorically, of course. He wasn’t a mad man like some of his ancestors. And attached to this bed the only weapon at his disposal was his words. He had cursed, jeered, and ranted, honestly uncharacteristic of himself, at the maester who had attended to his leg the day before and had the nerve to tell him his progress was splendid. If it was so splendid then why was he still in this bed? If he was such a great man of knowledge and skill, why hadn’t he healed him yet?! He should go back to whatever dung heap he crawled out of and beg alms for to the gods for wasting a fine Citadel education on an incompetent!!

The prince said a few more unkind things before he forbade any of them from touching him again. He did not think they would take him seriously.

“So, they sent you to do the work of a common barrio healer since they do not wish to do their jobs?”

“I think it was more that they thought you wouldn’t scratch at me. More fool they then, hn?”

Aemond sunk further into his pillows, sulking. He doesn’t mean to scratch at her. He doesn’t mean to scratch at any of them, honestly. He just wanted to get out of his bed and go on with his life. To have the world move on around him, to grow weak and irrelevant in this bed, was the real punishment. “I’m sorry.” He apologized. “…thank you…for helping me…”

“You’re welcome Aemond.”

How quick she was to accept his apology. How quick she was to help him, already coming to his side despite his scratching, when he needed her. No wonder he was always alone….

The prince did what he could for her as he raised his leg from the pillow propping it up and held it there while she unwrapped the old dressing. “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” It was not meant as a slight. Just a genuine curiosity on if she knew the proper way to wrap his injury.

His wife just chuckled. “Yes, Aemond. Despite not wanting to come in here on their own, the maesters did instruct me on how to do it properly.” Cowards, he thought. “There! All done.”

Aemond looked at his leg with his good eye and tried to flex at his foot. His nostrils flared at the persistent pain, but it was wrapped correctly. He was impressed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I want you healed as soon as possible as well.” Her hand reached for his on the bed and clasped it. “In fact…I was told of another treatment….one that might help with the…circulation in your leg.”

“Oh?” Aemond was curious about that. Trapped in this bed, his legs were not getting the work out that they normally would. Training aside, the walk around the castle was enough exercise for most lords. He hadn’t been able to go more than a few steps for days. His legs teetered between weightlessness and the sharp pricks of falling asleep all the time. “Will it improve my condition?”

“It….could…” She seemed unconvinced. Avoiding, even. But perhaps that was because the last person who made remarks about the improvement of his condition was threatened to be fed to Vhagar. “Will you let me try it?”

What was there to lose, he thought, and Aemond nodded before he helped her take off his lower bed linens so both his legs were bare. A small vial appeared out from her pocket, and she poured some of its contents onto her hands before rubbing them together and placing them on his leg. “Just…try to relax for me.”

A hefty ask, but he does try. All he could do recently was ‘try to relax’. ‘Rest, my prince’, ‘you need time to heal’. It was all he had heard for the past days, to the point that any word close to ‘relax’ had almost the opposite effect on him. But for her, he does try. For her it worked a little. His shoulders finally untensing. Looking at her in the candlelight. Soft feelings swelling at the touch of her soft hands. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” He answered, almost without thinking. It did feel good. He didn’t realize how stiff his leg was until this moment.

Aemond let out a deep exhale. Not really a sigh, just the release of all the air in his lungs and tension built in his body. His eye closed as he laid back and let his wife work. They aren’t strong, but persistent. He continued to enjoy until he felt her hands shift up higher. Up his calf where his injury was to above his knee. “What are you doing?”

“What??” Her shocked face was particularly adorable in the soft light. Wide, wild eyes. Body frozen save for a soft tremble in her shoulders. “I..I’m rubbing your leg. I told you.”

“My injury is not there though.” He told her logically. Gaze still fixed on her for any kind of reveal.

“I…I know…” Her hands shift to seem to want to move away from him, but she willed them to stay still. “I just thought…maybe there was some other tension I could help you with….”

It was Aemond’s turn to be shocked, but he doesn’t show it on his face like she does. His wife was a lady. A demure, kind, noble one at that. Though she wasn’t nearly as boring & cow eyed as the other noble ladies on offer to him at the time of his betrothal, or so Aemond assumed as he didn’t pay much attention to any of them, boldness like this was not heard of in their marriage. She never denied him. Seemed fond of when they were together; or at least made all the right noises like she did. But it was always he who initiated such acts in their bedroom. To see her offer, and on offer, as he finally took in her appearance and the thin robe she had come to him in, Aemond would not deny that it was quite arousing.

Without another word, Aemond parted his legs further to give her room. If this was her intention, he would not deny her. There was a flush on her cheeks that bleed down her neck towards the V of her robe when he did this. Her resolve seeming to waiver, and disappointment started to drip into his chest at the prospect he may have ruined this too with his terrible attitude, but she continued.

The prince sighed. Gladdened to feel her hands on him again and closed his eye with a newfound desire for his treatment, now that he knew what was going on. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Her coquettish tone was a tonic to his ears. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying touching him and playing with him. His cock jumped as it filled fuller. More aroused by the fact that his wife truly did want him than her hands close, but not close enough, to his member. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Aemond opened his eye and genuinely growled at his wife. Though this game was amusing, enticing, it had been days since he’d found release. Being stuck in this bed did not really spur a person on towards desire. And though she laid with him at night like a good wife she had been spared from her ‘wifely duties’ for some time as Aemond was either still in too much pain from his leg, or unable to move it to perform the act, or in too bad of a mood to make the effort. Having her close. Feeling her touch. It was like the flood gates opened on a dam he had long since locked up and threw away the key on. “Please….”

His kind, noble, demure wife took pity on him, and also took his cock in her hand. Aemond’s head tilted back as he moaned. Her soft hands stroking his member from under his night shirt slowly, deliberately. She had touched him before, so she knew how he liked it, but honestly she could have touched him anyway she liked. Like a clumsy novice that first night they were together, and he still would have melted in her hands.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” Again, without thought. But headier this time. More needy. He opened his eye to look upon his wife and found her staring at him. Those bright eyes darkened with desire. He’d never seen it before; mostly because when they were together her face was either buried in his chest, or shoulder, or in the pillows. Aemond bit his bottom lip hard. Trying not to cum at just the sight of her.

“It’s ok.” She told him in a whisper. Like it was a secret between the two of them. “You can let go husband. Will you let go for me?”

It was the softest command that Aemond had ever heard, and yet it forced him to obey more than any other. His back pressed further back into the pillows as his head tilted back again. His cock spasming in her hand as his seed leapt out from the tip. Covering her hand and perhaps getting some on her pretty robe by her knee. He would have to get her another one.

He opened his eye again after coming down from his high. Just in time to see her lick his seed off the palm of her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Well, the royal seed is sacred, is it not?” Her grin was soft, but mischievous. “We should not waste it.”

Aemond’s hand darted out to grab hold of her arm and drag her down to him in a deep, needy kiss. Apparently the flood gates he thought were released earlier were in truth just a leak in the levees. This was when the dam broke now. The need he had for her burning so hot that he could almost taste blood at the back of his tongue, his blood was boiling so hot.

He tried to spread his legs wider to make more room for his wife, but when he moved, he was reminded (painfully) of his injury. “Damnit!” The prince hissed against his wife’s lips. The throbbing in his leg almost in tandem with his cock.

“Sssh…it’s ok Aemond.” He wanted to bite at her soft words.

It was not ok! None of this was ok! He was injured, in pain, stuck in this bed, and now he couldn’t even fuck his wife! He felt useless. He felt angry. He felt humiliated not being able to do things as a man should, and he just wanted to get back to normal!

Before he could tell her any of this, however, his wife pulled back and removed her robe from her body. Mesmerizing in the fire light. No Valyrian alabaster, but still just as dazzling to Aemond. Shift discarded, his wife raised her hips and inched closer to hover them over his own. “The maester said not to move unless absolutely necessarily.” He wanted to argue that laying with his wife was absolutely necessarily, particularly in this moment, but all his words left him on a moan as she lowered herself onto him. “So you just stay there. L-Let me take care of you.” The little stammer in her voice as she started rolling her hips almost sent Aemond into a frenzy, but he endured.

He genuinely couldn’t move with her on top of him like this and his position on the bed. Though why would be want to? For the first time since his accident, Aemond was actually ecstatic to be stuck here in this bed. His wife lovingly impaling herself on his member. Riding him with skill just short of a dragon rider. If he had the wits still about him, he would have chuckled at his own joke. ‘Dragon rider’. As it was though he was stupid with lust. Dumb, witless, helpless at her mercy as she took from him everything and gave him back so much. He still had brains at least to return the favor.

His wife cried out when he reached up to cup her breast. The weight of them in his hands something he missed. Aemond does not get a lot of time to enjoy them, however, as his wife suddenly fell forward. Covering his body with her own. Hips still moving but at a much snappier pace with the depleted gap between them. He didn’t care though. His hands just repositioned themselves on her other mounds at her backside and pressed her to move faster.

“A-Aemond!” Her cries were his music. The tempo in which he set a new rhythm.

The wet sound of their sexes kissing along with their actual kissing fill the room, until it all stopped in one bright, shining moment of his wife shaking on top of him while her fists tried to fight his pillows and he spilled inside her this time.

He wished he could hold her like this for longer. Her weight a comfort, like a blanket, in his arms. But she rolled over onto his non-injured side to lay beside him. It was good enough. “Do you feel better now?”

Aemond looked down at her, having to turn his head completely as to not just look at her with the sapphire in his eye, realizing at last what this was about. Her idea of a good will effort. To lift his spirits and relieve his tension. Maybe keep him from trying to execute more of the maesters in the castle. “Yes. I’m feeling better.”

She smiled, then placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Good.”

The fingers from the hand around her own shoulders played with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. “Was this all just for me though?”

His wife looked at him with a perplexed look, but then realized what he was asking and blushed. She was smart enough to figure it out. “Not…all of it. I did want you to be in better spirits but…I have missed you.”

The corner of Aemond’s lips ticked up. Pleased, and pleased with himself. He did not think his sexual prowess was worth much compared to his prowess with a sword or strategy. But to hear that his wife wanted him, truly wanted him, was all the praise he would ever need. “So, you came up with this idea to satisfy both of us, ābrazyrys.”

“It wasn’t….all my idea…” Aemond arched a brow at his wife’s words. Curious now where she had got the idea from, as it had clearly come from somewhere. “Aegon commented on your bad mood and how someone should ‘cheer you up’. He gave me the idea, but the rest of it was all my doing.”

Aemond wasn’t sure which comment he was more shocked about. The fact that his brother knew how he was faring in his recovery, or the fact that he made lewd comments to his wife. He was battering between feelings of an odd sense of touched and white hot furry, but he decided to just let it go for now and enjoy his wife. “Well, thank you, regardless. In future I will try not to scratch at you while I am still confined to this bed. Lest you ask.”

She giggled when he kissed the top of her forehead. “And the maesters?”

“They are on their own.” Idiots. “I make no promises on their safety, but I will…endeavor to be of better character in the future.” At least not threaten to feed them to Vhagar. That seemed a reasonable adjustment.

[wolfofcelestia]

Cat Zayne: The type to lick you in an attempt to groom you and the type to check up on you during the night while you're sleeping

Cat Sylus: The type to bring you mice and other small animals in an attempt to feed you. He looks proud whenever he drops a dead mouse at your feet

Cat Rafayel: The type to knock anything and everything off tables and look you straight in the eye while doing so

Cat Xavier: The type to sniff your hand and glare at you after you've been petting other cats

[bimbodolllll]

۶ৎ The Girlfriend Effect!

۶ৎ auth: <3

۶ৎ Summary: The boyfriend effect; you adopt your boyfriends mannerisms. However, the girlfriend effect, they adopt what you do.

۶ৎ: drabbles | gender neutral reader | fluff

۶ৎ Characters Included: Manjiro “Mikey” Sano, Ken “Draken” Ryuguji, Keisuke Baji, Chifuyu Matsuno, Kazutora Hanemiya, Izana Kurokawa, Nahoya “Smiley” Kawata, Souya “Angry” Kawata, Takashi Mitsuya, Hajime Kokonoi

۶ৎ Manjiro “Mikey” Sano

• Style Upgrade: Starts wearing cleaner, more polished outfits. He never cared much before, but now his clothes are less wrinkled, and he smells faintly of vanilla and fresh laundry.

• Emotional Maturity: Slowly learns to communicate better, though he still struggles with opening up completely. Your patience teaches him that being vulnerable doesn’t mean weakness.

• Healthier Habits: Starts eating more than just junk food because you remind him he needs proper meals.

—

Mikey sat on the couch, legs sprawled, watching you move around the kitchen. He had a plate of curry in front of him—a meal you made, light on the spice because he hated too much heat.

“Y’know,” he mumbled between bites, “I don’t even like curry that much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So why’s the plate almost empty?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged, looking away. But you caught it—the tiniest smile tugging at his lips. “It just tastes better when you make it.”

۶ৎ Ken “Draken” Ryuguji

• Style Upgrade: His hair stays neat, and he’s more mindful of keeping his tank tops clean. He even switches to cologne instead of relying on the scent of motor oil.

• Ambition Boost: Becomes more serious about expanding the shop because he wants stability for the future.

• Better Communication: He starts explaining his feelings more instead of bottling them up, thanks to your influence.

—

Draken stood beside his bike, wiping the grease off his hands. You watched him, arms crossed, eyes narrowing slightly.

“What?” He smirked, but there was a softness in his eyes.

“Did you… clean the garage?”

He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “Thought it was about time. Can’t have you breathing in dust every time you come around.”

You tilted your head. “Since when do you care about dust?”

“Since you started coming by.” His voice was quieter now, almost shy. “Can’t have my girl dealin’ with all that.”

۶ৎ Keisuke Baji

• Style Upgrade: He still wears his leather jacket, but now it’s less ripped, and his boots aren’t caked in mud. He’ll never admit it, but he likes when you compliment how he looks.

• Healthier Habits: He cuts back on junk food (a little) because you nag about it.

• Emotional Maturity: Learns not to blow up when things go wrong, trying to stay calm because he knows you hate yelling.

—

Baji leaned against his bike, arms crossed, waiting for you after class. His usual wild grin softened when he spotted you.

“Yo.” He handed you a drink, your favorite.

“Since when do you remember what I like?” You teased, taking a sip.

“Since I started actually listening,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal outta it, okay?”

But the way his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual? That said everything.

۶ৎ Chifuyu Matsuno

• Style Upgrade: He switches from mismatched outfits to more coordinated ones—sometimes even matching your color palette without realizing it.

• Ambition Boost: Becomes more serious about managing the pet shop, thinking about the long-term future.

• Better Communication: Learns to be more honest about his feelings, not just brushing things off.

—

Chifuyu stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his hoodie. You leaned against the doorframe, watching with an amused smile.

“New fit?”

“Uh… yeah.” He glanced at you, cheeks flushing slightly. “Figured I should stop looking like I just threw on whatever I found.”

You stepped closer, fingers brushing over his sleeve. “Trying to impress someone?”

“Maybe.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the look in his eyes told you exactly who.

۶ৎ Kazutora Hanemiya

• Style Upgrade: Starts wearing softer colors because you told him he looked good in them.

• Healthier Habits: He’s more mindful of sleeping enough and eating better because you’re always worried about him.

• Emotional Maturity: Learns to control his impulsive outbursts, wanting to be a calmer version of himself for you.

—

Kazutora sat beside you, his head resting on your shoulder as you scrolled through your phone.

“Hey,” you murmured, “you’ve been quiet.”

“Just… thinking.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“About what?”

“About how… I’m lucky you stuck around.” His fingers brushed lightly against yours, his grip hesitant. “I’m trying, y’know? To be… better.”

And he was.

۶ৎ Izana Kurokawa

• Style Upgrade: Starts paying more attention to how he looks, favoring neutral tones that complements your outfits.

• Better Communication: He opens up about his fears and insecurities, something he never thought he’d do.

• Ambition Boost: He works harder to stabilize Tenjiku, not just for power but to build something stable for the both of you.

—

Izana stood by the window, staring out at the city below. You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his back.

“Lost in thought again?”

“Just… thinking about the future.” His voice was distant, but there was a softness in it.

“You’re not alone in that anymore, you know.”

His hand found yours, squeezing gently. “I know. That’s why I want to make sure… it’s a future you’d want, too.”

۶ৎ Nahoya “Smiley” Kawata

• Style Upgrade: His clothes get a little less chaotic, matching his accessories to his outfits (sometimes).

• Emotional Maturity: He learns to read the room better, understanding when to dial down the jokes.

• Healthier Habits: He cuts back on staying up all night because you nag him about taking care of himself.

—

Nahoya sat beside you, legs stretched out in front of him.

“Yo,” he nudged you lightly, “notice anything different?”

You glanced at him, noticing his shirt wasn’t as wrinkled, and his nails were… clean?

“You… took care of yourself?”

“Figured I’d start lookin’ decent since I’m always standing next to a goddess.” He winked, but there was a hint of sincerity behind the playful grin.

۶ৎ Souya “Angry” Kawata

• Style Upgrade: Starts wearing softer fabrics because you said they feel nice when you hug him.

• Better Communication: He opens up about his emotions more instead of bottling them up.

• Healthier Habits: He starts drinking more water and taking vitamins because you remind him.

—

Souya sat at the kitchen table, quietly sipping the tea you made for him.

“Did you… put honey in this?”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly. “It’s good for your throat.”

He glanced away, cheeks slightly flushed. “Thanks… I, uh, started taking those vitamins you gave me, too.”

You blinked, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah.” His eyes met yours, softer than usual. “You… worry about me too much. I don’t wanna make you worry more.”

۶ৎ Takashi Mitsuya

• Style Upgrade: Starts incorporating subtle hints of your favorite colors into his designs.

• Ambition Boost: He becomes more focused on expanding his brand, wanting to create a future where you’re both secure.

• Emotional Maturity: He becomes more expressive, showing affection in quieter, meaningful ways.

—

Mitsuya sat at his sewing machine, fabric draped across his lap.

“What’s that?” You leaned over, curiosity piqued.

“Something… for you.” He didn’t meet your gaze, but the blush on his cheeks was impossible to miss.

“For me?”

“Yeah.” He finally looked up, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Wanted to make sure you had something that… reminds you of me.”

۶ৎ Hajime Kokonoi

• Style Upgrade: He starts wearing softer tones that match your style, even ditching all-black sometimes.

• Ambition Boost: His business ventures become more personal, focusing on stability rather than just money.

• Emotional Maturity: He learns to prioritize love over material gain, valuing your presence more than anything.

—

Kokonoi sat across from you at the café, his usual suit replaced with a sweater in a soft shade of cream.

“New look?” You teased, eyeing him with a raised brow.

“Maybe.” He sipped his coffee, avoiding your gaze. “Figured… I should try something different.”

“Because of me?”

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Because I want to be someone… who fits into your world.”